Wyatt wheezes.

Hands on his knees, he looks up at the pull-up bar above him, exhausted from
the massive workout. He isn’t even done, yet he could throw in the towel now and still feel
completely depleted. Not to mention he certainly isn’t close to where he wants to be physically;
he’s in pretty good shape, yet he knows he can be better, and all he can do is keep working to
get there.

Breathing heavily, he walks back inside and enters the kitchen to pour some water. As he starts
to pull a glass out of the cabinet, he notices an unfamiliar bottle sitting on the counter. He
examines the large bottle of pink liquid. It has a simple label on the front: “Hopp!”

“Looks like some sort of off-brand Gatorade,” he says to himself. Maybe it’s new? It’s
decorated with a friendly-looking design, an open field with fresh crops and cute little blue
flowers on the front. He turns it around and reads the label:

“Put the spring back in your step with Hopp! The brand-new, wholly organic workout beverage
fresh from the Hopps family farm! Made with 100% homegrown carrot juice, natural protein
supplements, and a variety of other nutrients to kick your bunny butt into gear! Keep an eye out
for our new blueberry flavor, coming soon! Enjoy!”

- Bonnie and Stu Hopps, founders

Seems decent enough. Kinda corny, but kinda cute, too. That still doesn’t explain how it got
there in the first place. Must have followed him home from the grocery store last time he
shopped; maybe one of the clerks bagged it by accident, not knowing it wasn’t his. Whatever.
Given that he needs the extra energy, he dares to open it up and take a swig. Almost instantly,
Wyatt feels a surge of energy, followed by a motivating rush of endorphins. Tastes like fresh
carrots! Damn! Bonnie and Stu have something figured out!

Suddenly overwhelmed with confidence and vigor, Wyatt takes the drink in his hand and
marches back outside. There’s a certain spring to his step now. He is absolutely pumped,
certain that he can go for a lot longer than he originally thought, even after the workout he just
did. So much he can do today, so many ways to get stronger. He connects his speaker and
starts his music. Time to hop to it!

His eyes shoot to the rack of dumbbells along the wall, and he rushes over to grab a pair. He
sits on the bench and curls his hands around the grip of the weights, itching the sides of his
knuckles with his fingers. He takes a deep breath and lifts the dumbbells, curling his forearms
upwards and flexing his biceps as they strain against the weight. The first rep is easy, but the
more he lifts, the harder it gets. If he were paying attention, he might notice the light dusting of
hair that seems to be sprouting up from his fingers. In fact, the more he lifts, the more the hair
grows as it begins bunching up along his fingers and spreading a bit down the rest of his hands,
taking on a shade of gray. On his last rep, he has to fight the fatigue, and as he expels the rest
of his strength, his hands and fingertips swell up a bit, his nails darkening to a shade of brown
as the fur finishes growing. They now resemble animal paws more than human hands. He
does not have any pads, but where they normally would be, there are patches of white fur that
contrast with the rest of the gray fur.

He drops the weights and wipes the sweat from his brow, unaware of the new softness of his
hand after the intriguing change that just took place. After a few seconds of rest, he is ready to
go again. He’d only just started, after all. As he sits back down and lifts the dumbbells once
again, the fur continues its growth, starting to spread up his arms. The gray pelt continues
around and up his wrists, to his forearms, to his elbows, and finally up his relatively muscular
biceps and triceps, which are busy working hard to support the added weight. They will need to
work even harder, however, as they slender down, retaining their athletic shape, but appearing
thinner, making the weights a little heavier themselves. Wyatt is undeterred, pushing through
the last reps in his set, the fur thickening and brushing against itself, his arms contracting and
relaxed before he finally puts the weights back down. He sighs in relief and guzzles some more
“Hopp!”

His arms fully pumped, he figures he’d try a different workout for now. His legs haven’t gotten
much work yet, so he decides on squats. He sets a barbell along the rack, puts some large
plates on the sides of it, and crouches underneath. With a breath, he lifts the bar off the rack
and lowers his body, his leg muscles twitching and tensing as the exercise begins. As he brings
it back up, a burst of energy and lactic acid permeates his thighs and buttocks, the main
muscles targeted by this exercise. It hurts like hell, and he still has plenty more reps to go.

He squats back down and brings himself back up again, the pain increasingly searing through
his legs. Despite the fatigue building up, he pushes through, which causes his quads to shake
and… grow? If one were watching him, they would notice that his legs and thighs look a bit
shapelier than before, and each time he raises the bar back up, they seem to expand a little
more. Then, when he drops back down, he squeezes his hips and buttocks, causing them to
widen gradually, slowly rounding out against the seat of his pants.

After his last rep, he lifts up and carefully places the bar back on the rack. He then buckles over
and leans his hands on his knees, paying no mind to his legs looking much different than
before, carrying more mass and figure to them. He shook them out, his thicker thighs jiggling a
bit. He reaches and takes another swig of Hopp!, another rush of endorphins and serotonin
bursting through his system.

“Whatever’s in this, it feels like it’s working,” he states to himself, and he takes a few more
moments before working himself back under the bar. As soon as he starts again, his butt
continues its bloating, his workout shorts hugging the reshaping figure of his lower body, which
is looking arguably feminine as he moves forward. He goes through his motions, his legs filling
out with plenty of strength and agility, true to the nature of what, or who, he is becoming. More
gray fur snakes its way under his shorts and down his legs, prickling along against the fabric as
it makes its way down to his feet, which begin to tingle. His shoes start to feel a bit tighter,
surely just from the pressure exerted by this particular exercise. The more he works, the more
the fur grows, and that’s not to mention the sharp, sudden pressure building up at the base of
his spine. He merely attributes that to the rigor of the workout.

However, it becomes apparent that is not the case, as something new pushes itself against the
top of his shorts. Wyatt wrinkles his nose a bit, acute to the increasing tension within his shoes
and along his coccyx, as if something squeezes it harder and harder the further along he gets.
As uncomfortable as it is, he grits his teeth and drops back down to complete his final rep. He
clenches his jaw, the strange tension peaking in sensation until it finally rips! As soon as he hits
the bottom, his shorts tear from behind, and his shoes pop open from the front. From these pop
a fluffy little tail and a pair of big, fluffy foot paws, those of which clearly belonged to a rabbit.
His tail twitches a bit as he forces himself back up with his strong, shapely lower body, shifting
his long, strong feet as they grow even more, profiling themselves into an ideal pair of bunny
paws. All of these new changes seem rather out of place on the rest of his form. Wyatt,
however, still remains remarkably oblivious to what’s happening to him, despite occasional
sensations showing up here and there. He sets the bar down and places his paws on his hips,
finding them more supportive than usual. He even kicks off his shoes, or whatever’s left of
them, finding his bare feet to feel a lot more comfortable and supportive, anyway.

At this point, he considers stopping the workout, exhaustion creeping its way in. He knows he
can’t though. He only has one more exercise: pull-ups. He stares up at the bar and wipes his
brow with his fuzzy arm, bringing his paw back around his bottle of Hopp!, which was now
almost empty. Filled with determination, he downs the rest of it, replenishing his electrolytes
and pumping him up. He places the bottle down and walks over to the bar, swaying his hips
and cracking his knuckles. He takes a deep breath, jumps up, and clasps his paws around the
bar as he pulls himself to the top.

One. He exhales and lowers himself back down, instantly feeling a burn in his back. Not
wanting to lose any grip strength, he pulls himself right back up. Bit by bit.

Two. Now, not only is his back straining, but it’s itchy; poor timing for it to happen in the middle
of the set. It’s getting itchier too, the bristling sensation sprinkling further down his back and
wrapping around his stomach. He grimaces, his nose twitching a bit as it pushes out and
flattens slightly, taking on a button shape. Too late to stop now, though.

Three. As he pulls himself up, the itching only worsens, fully engulfing his upper body and
crawling up his neck. What the hell?! The annoying tickle of the fur underneath his clothing
only pushes him even harder to get through this last exercise. He continues to breathe deeply,
and as he exhales, his nose pushes out even more, turning pink and wet, small whiskers poking
out along the sides. Even his breathing itself sounds a little higher pitched than usual, the air
feeling different as it moves through his throat, though Wyatt doesn’t care. Just means the
workout is getting to him and that he will definitely see results, let alone feel them.

Four. He grunts in a feminine tone as he thrusts himself back up. He feels himself shaking,
though he keeps fighting and pulling his weight. He can feel small pops along his back, up and
down his spine, and he is now worried that he could injure himself. It’s not really painful though,
so he lowers back down to prepare for another rep. What he didn’t notice is that he hung off the
ground a little higher than before.

Five. As he moves up, he feels, surprisingly, a bit lighter, which motivates him. He thinks it’s
just him getting stronger, a second wind, but it’s actually his back shrinking, the same popping
feeling having increased. His torso pulls up into itself slightly and raises his legs further up,
causing them to shrink as well. It’s as if someone is pinching him down and compressing him
into himself, his former height effortlessly disappearing. He folds his upper lip, showing off two
new buck teeth that push their way out of his mouth. His cheeks tingle as the same gray and
white fur begins to take over his face, starting to envelop his red beard. As he lowers back
down, he definitely starts to notice pain, though it doesn’t feel like any familiar workout pain,
especially since it’s not in his back. It’s in his chest.

Six. The moment he starts to pull back up, his pecs push out against his shirt, and not with
muscle. Wyatt pants a bit, unable not to notice the sudden burning in his chest. His nipples rub
against the shirt, shifting against the fabric as the rest of his fluffy chest puffed out slightly. The
fur brushes along the inside of his shirt as the intense heat builds, the pain fitting in well with the
rest of his worn-out body. His back definitely still hurts, and the popping gets more intense,
removing inch by inch from his height, making him much smaller. Despite trying to stay relaxed
and focused, Wyatt can’t help but feel a strain on his softening jaw and tingling ears, the
pressure within them building up. He stares intently at the bar and drops once more, feeling like
he’s fighting a losing battle, but also knowing that he will absolutely win. He blinks, his eyes
widening a bit as his lashes flutter outwards, curling up, like a woman’s. He huffs once again,
preparing for another hard-fought rep.

Seven. This time, he shoots himself up, definitely feeling the difference of the changes that
have taken place. As he reaches the top, one resounding snap in his lower back and legs
brings them up almost a foot higher, leaving Wyatt almost three feet shorter than he was before
his first pull-up. “Whew! H-holy fuck,” he stutters to himself, his voice strained and weary, but
still filled with determination, as well as a definite lack of masculinity. “Three more,” Wyatt notes
as he wraps his foot paws around each other and lowers himself back down, the fur almost
completely covering his thinning neck and feminizing face.

Eight. This one hurts. In the worst of places. He audibly gasps and his tail jumps as it feels like
someone has straight-up kicked him in the balls. Head starting to spin, but confidence
unwavering, he musters more and more of his quick, glycolytic muscle fibers to inch himself to
the top… and inch something else inwards. This also prompts his new breasts to plump up
more; they aren’t big by any means, but they’re there, and they’re covered in the same soft fur
that now completely adorns the rest of his body. He definitely notices these rather invasive
sensations, but there’s nothing he can do about it until he gets this last set over with. He knows
he can stop and attend to himself, but fuck that. It can wait.
“Argh, c’mon Judy, you’ve got this!” Whatt exclaims to himself, completely oblivious to the name
he just called himself. He lowers down gently, reaffirming to himself that he only has two more!
He takes a second, breathing slowly in and out as he continues to stare at the ever-menacing
bar above him. It taunts him, but he won’t give in, and as the color in his large eyes washes
from green into purple, he flexa the compact muscles in his bunny back and pulls up.

Nine. Fatigue is here. His efforts start to become fruitless; even the baddest of bunnies has her
limit. The harder he pulls, the more her body hurts, and the more his body hurts, the more it
changes. He can even feel her mind starting to fog up as he starts to pant and wheeze,
completely in the zone and losing track of where he was, even who she was. She can barely
think straight, not to mention the blasting pressure that still remains in his crotch, unceasing and
getting worse. In fact, everything is burning. His slender arms. His perky chest. His slender
waist. His shapely thighs and butt. His short, yet strong legs, complete with large, thick
footpaws. From the crown of her head down to her fluffy little tail, all of it was completely
drained from the excessive workout she just endured. And now, it came down to this last rep.
One measly pull-up. Fighting the numbness in his mind, she squeezes his legs together, firms
his grip, and grunts, pulling himself upward as her ears and crotch go...

POP! Ten. As quickly and unpleasantly as the burning had started, it was gone. For that
matter, something else was gone too, though she didn’t care nor notice. Judy releases her grip
and drops back down to the floor, falling a couple feet before landing softly on her feet. She
regathers her senses and twists in place, allowing her body to stretch out and settle back into
itself. She sits down on the bench, breathing heavily and finally relaxing. A sense of pride wells
up within her, perking up her long, fluffy ears. She knows she just slayed that workout. Why
wouldn’t she though? She wasn’t top in her class at the police academy for nothing.

Pushing herself up, she takes a swig of water and pulls out her phone camera, switching it to
selfie mode. She makes a surprised expression, staring curiously at the screen and examining
her fuzzy, feminine figure, admittedly looking to see if her body has a pump from the exercise.
She takes a second, a quick impulse running through her brain.

After making absolutely sure nobody else is around, she slides her top off, revealing her modest
breasts and slim, tight core. She cups one of them with her handpaw and captures some
photos, showing off her beautiful body for a set of heat-of-the-moment selfies. Angle by angle,
she shows off all of her assets, showcasing the results of the rigorous workout. She felt hot!

She also felt ridiculous. Her better judgment sets back in, overriding her brief fit of vanity.

“Am I really doing this?” she thought. “Hmm… well, as long as nobody at the station sees.
Especially Nick. He’d never let me hear the end of it.”

She opens her photo app and scrolls through her impromptu photoshoot, silently praising and
judging her body in the pictures. She blushes a bit, turning around to squeeze one of her
buttcheeks.
“Guess that’s where all of Gideon’s sweets are going,” she mutters, ears drooping a bit. She
definitely has inherited what she and her family call “Hopps haunches.”

However, her brief embarrassment gives way to immense confidence. Her tail wiggles with
pride; she’s very happy with the hard work she put in today! Fuck it, she’s worked hard and
been through enough in her life; she’ll have as much of Gideon’s pie as she wants! She smacks
her ass and giggles casually. Judy definitely has her doubters, those who tell her she’s too
small and that bunnies don’t do what she does, but she knows her own strength, as do her
friends and family. Mom, Dad, her siblings, the police force, Nick… her heart is warm. She’s all
good.

She relaxes her brow and smiles, throwing a towel around her neck before finally leaving the
gym, bounding forward with a characteristic pep in her step. Ears pricked and tail up, Judy
Hopps is eager as ever for what the rest of the day will bring her. Time to go make the world a
better place!